


At His Majesty's Pleasure

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 10 (all the AUs: Megan/Nate/Carver) [11]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Evil, Alternate Universe Allegiance Switch, Dubious Consent, Evil Cousland - Freeform, Evil Warden, F/M, Implied Torture, pretty much pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 23:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14091618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: The Evil Megan AU, (aka the one where Megan never meets Duncan and sleeps with King Cailan instead). Megan Cousland is on Loghain's and Rendon Howe's side in this, doing her best to counteract Alistair's efforts at saving the world from darkspawn. She's still very much Megan, though, just completely without any moral compass whatsoever…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If the first chapter seems familiar, it's because it's actually day 14 from the 30 days AU challenge (Allegiance Swap). There's quite a bit of new stuff, though. :)

Rendon Howe walked into the Great Hall at Highever with a big smile on his gaunt face, extending his arms in a fatherly gesture. Megan beamed back at her father-in-law, going up on tip toes to kiss his cheek. "Dearest Papa! How kind of you to stop by."

"Megan. You look lovely as ever. But, tell me, has Maric's bastard been taken care of?" His hand brushed against her breast as if by accident, but she wasn't fooled. Arl Rendon always managed to cop a feel when she got close to him.

Megan hid her revulsion at his touch with the ease of long practice. "Of course, Papa. He's awaiting his execution down in the dungeon. I don't think anyone will miss him but, just in case, I had a few of my men spread the tale that he's left for the Free Marches to make his fortune there."

"Well done," the arl chuckled. "I really don't know what I'd do without you, my little spitfire."

Megan favoured him with her most dazzling smile. _You'd be busy digging your own grave, you senile idiot._ Really, without her help he'd never have managed to take control of Highever. Knowing him, he'd probably have attacked with an army, when there were so many… subtler ways of achieving what they wanted.

It had been so easy. Her parents had been overjoyed when Nathaniel had asked for her hand in marriage. She'd pretended to be bashful, overwhelmed by his attention. Megan's lips turned up in a contemptuous smirk at the memory. They'd been so utterly clueless. Not even in their wildest dreams would they have imagined that their sweet little daughter had been messing around with Nathaniel for months.

"Father. I didn't expect to see you here tonight." And here he was, her husband, embracing the old arl with such fervour that Megan flinched internally. She'd have to talk to Nathaniel later tonight, tell him to tone it down a little. Even Rendon wasn't that gullible. Or, maybe he was.

He slapped his eldest son heartily on the shoulder. "Nathaniel. You're looking well. But, when will you give me my first grandson, boy? It's about time."

 _Not if I have a say in it._ Megan had no interest in becoming a mother any time soon. Right now, she wanted to enjoy the attentions of all the men at court, all the pleasantries due to a woman of her beauty and status. Any day now, Loghain would confirm her as Teyrna. She'd already begun to seed the rumour that Oriana's ship had sunk and, with a little luck, they'd have confirmation soon. And then no one would stand in her way. Not a single soul had even _suspected_ foul play…

After her wedding, she had taken off on a long honeymoon with her new husband to make sure she was well removed from suspicion. No need to get her own hands dirty when she could trust Carver to administer the poison to their drinks. When she'd been called home, she'd played the part of the grief-stricken, orphaned young lady to perfection. To lose both parents in one fell swoop, due to some mysterious illness – it had been a tragedy to touch the most hardened heart.

And then, cruel fate had struck again only two months later, with the unexpected death of her elder brother Fergus who had been away on a charge against the rebellious Chasind barbarians. Such a dangerous mission, really. His young widow had been inconsolable and had left for her native Antiva as soon as she could, taking her son with her for an extended visit with his grandparents.

In the heir's absence, Megan had been the only member of her family remaining at Highever. Carver had been rewarded with a promotion to Guard Captain as soon as she had taken the reins. And hadn't he proven even more useful ever since?

She returned her attention to the present. Nathaniel had offered his father a goblet of strong red wine and was ushering him toward the large armchair near the fire, no doubt hoping the old man would soon doze off in the cosy warmth. But no, he looked pretty perky tonight. Megan cursed under her breath. Ah, well. Maybe she could wheedle a little extra allowance out of him. A few adoring glances and a little flattery usually did the trick.

"You know, Papa, Habren Bryland has been such a pain lately, claiming that her father is the only one in Ferelden who can afford proper Orlesian silk." Gracefully, she sank to her knees next to him, placing her hand on his velvet-clad thigh. "Of course, I set her right immediately. It's well-known that the Brylands can't hold a candle to the Howes."

"True, true," he chuckled, his gaze diving into her generous cleavage. "And you shall have the finest dress in the capital, my pet, made from silk brocade, no less. I'll have my tailor come over tomorrow, don't you worry."

Megan fluttered her eyelids at him. "Oh, really, you don't have to-"

"Lady Howe?" Carver's voice was a welcome relief. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Captain Hawke." She got to her feet, pursing her lips in disapproval. "Can't this wait till morning?"

"I'm afraid not, my lady." Carver's expression was the perfect blend of servility and competence. "It's about the prisoner."

"Oh, all right. Excuse me, please, Papa." She smiled apologetically at the arl and followed Carver out through the door and into Nathaniel's study.

As soon as the door fell shut, his arms were around her, pinning her to the wall, his breath hot on her neck. "Megan. Andraste's tits, how do you stand the old creep?"

"By thinking of more agreeable pursuits?" She moaned when he bit down hard on her naked shoulder. "Careful! You can't leave a mark where he'll see it."

"I'm sorry." Carver didn't sound particularly repentant.

"So, is there really something you wanted to discuss about Alistair or was that just an excuse to get me to join you here?" Megan let her hand wander down to his waist, toying with the fastenings of his armour.

"The bastard is fine." Carver shrugged. "Put up quite a fight, though. You should have warned me that he'd had Templar training."

"I didn't think that would be a problem for you," she purred, working the leather straps loose. "But I figure you deserve a reward for your bravery."

The chainmail coat came off and she quickly dealt with his leather pants, sliding her hand inside the garment to find him hard and ready. He groaned at her touch and she quickly manoeuvred him around so his back was to the wall, then got down on her knees.

"Megan." He dragged off his gauntlets, burying his fingers in her hair as she freed his cock from its confinement and took him between her lips. "Maker!"

He would mess up her carefully braided bun but, right now, Megan didn't care. She loved everything about this: the taste and weight of him on her tongue; the way his thighs trembled under her touch and his eyes rolled back as she began to suck; the incoherent curses tumbling from his lips. When she took him in deep, his grip became almost painful, but all she felt was jubilant triumph at having him so completely at her mercy. Such a big, strong warrior, and he was putty in her hands. Just like her own husband. Men were so easy to manipulate.

One day, she would make Nathaniel watch as she let Carver take her. Closing her eyes, she pictured his face, torn between jealousy and arousal, and it was enough to make her almost faint with pleasure. Right now, though… She redoubled her efforts and was rewarded with a final groan from Carver, a shudder racking his powerful body as he came hard, spilling in her mouth, his hand tight on the back of her head.

Megan left him in the study after a perfunctory kiss and quickly snuck off to her own room to fix her hair. She was almost finished, carefully tucking in the last pin, when Iona, her lady-in-waiting, knocked discreetly on the door.

"What is it?" Megan inspected her shoulder with a critical frown. There _was_ a faint bite mark. Quickly she reached for her powder jar.

"It's the Antivan, my lady." Iona glanced at her in the mirror as she took the powder puff from her hands and began to cover up the bruise. "What shall I tell him?"

"Tell him to wait in the blue room. I'll be with him shortly." Megan rose to go, straightening her skirt, not bothering to hide her pleased anticipation at the thought of meeting with the assassin. _Bye bye, dearest Papa_.


	2. Chapter 2

Megan smiled to herself as she followed Carver down the stairs to the dungeon. The meeting with the Antivan had been a big success. Zevran Arainai was a man after her own heart, cold and efficient, and blissfully free from scruples. Quite attractive, too. If he did his job well, she might just have a special reward for him…

"We're nearly there." Carver flashed her a wolfish smile. "I put him in the torture chamber. Figured it wouldn't hurt to let him have a look at what we have in store for him."

"Good thinking." Megan smiled back. "But let me try it my way first. With any luck, we won't have to dirty our hands to get what information we need from him."

Carver shrugged. "Your call. Just be careful. He's stronger than he looks."

"I'll keep that in mind." Megan had to admit she was curious.

And here he was: Alistair Theirin. King Maric's bastard son, if the rumours were to be believed. Carver had stripped him down to his breeches and tied him to a table in the middle of the room, flat on his back.

Megan took her time looking him over. He was well worth looking at. Tall, well-muscled, younger than Cailan had been. A sweet, guileless face, but appearances could be deceptive. His eyes were closed, as if he was trying to pretend he hadn't heard them, but his posture was tense enough to betray him.

She waited patiently until he opened his eyes, and then she answered his glare with a sweet smile. "Ah, good. You're awake. Leave us alone, Carver, will you?"

"You're sure?" Carver raised an eyebrow. "I told you, he's not as harmless as he seems."

Megan ran a probing hand over the leather cords that had been used to strap their prisoner to the table, then checked the heavy bracers around his wrists. They were covered in magical symbols meant to neutralise his Templar abilities, and so far, they seemed to be holding just fine. "I am sure. Leave us alone."

Carver nodded, and seconds later the door fell shut behind him.

With a sigh, Megan sat down on the edge of the table. "Now, then. What am I going to do with you?"

His glare intensified. "Who _are_ you?" He practically spit out the words.

"But of course! We haven't been introduced, have we? Where are my manners?" Megan smiled brightly. "I'm Lady Megan Howe, daughter of Teyrn Bryce Cousland, recently deceased. And you are King Cailan's bastard brother, or so they tell me." She ran a teasing hand down his bare chest, eliciting a brief shiver from him. "Now, I wonder if that's true. You do resemble him quite a bit, you know."

Alistair didn't reply, but a telltale flush was spreading down from his neck, and the muscles under his soft skin had grown taut. Megan was intrigued. Was this fear, or rage, or both? Or maybe… Moving her hand in soft circles, she caressed his smooth, golden skin, her touch as light as a feather. "Cailan was an attractive man, and so are you. Big, strong…" Her hand travelled lower, cupping him through his breeches, and his body responded with amazing swiftness, even though he was still giving her dark looks. "Mmhmm." Megan laughed softly as she traced his impressive length through the thin leather. "This certainly looks like King Calenhad's blood to me."

"How would you know?" Alistair was clearly doing his best to sound unconcerned, but his voice was shaky, and the flush had spread all over his chest.

"How?" Slowly, Megan drew one of her nails across his stomach, drawing a stifled gasp from him. "I knew your brother quite well, my dear. In every sense of the word. Sometimes I actually miss him a bit. His smile, and his hands… And that lovely, big cock of his."

Her hand encircled him again, and Alistair cursed under his breath.

"But it's a blessing Cailan's gone, really." Megan tightened her grip to just this side of painful. "He would have ruined the realm with his silly ideas. Loghain was quite right about that."

"You're working for Loghain? The traitor?" Alistair's tone was so righteously accusing that Megan barely succeeded in hiding her eyeroll.

"I'm working _with_ Loghain," she corrected him, shaking her head. "And you really ought to call him _Teyrn_ Loghain, don't you think? The man has worked hard for his title and besides, he's not a traitor. Anything but, as a matter of fact. He only has Ferelden's best interests at heart."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Alistair's jaw was set so tightly it had to hurt. "You weren't there. At Ostagar."

"Oh, but I was." Megan couldn't help but laugh at his surprised expression. "Not at the battle, mind you. But I was there the night before, to cheer Cailan up. To distract him from his worries." She made a quick, obscene gesture to illustrate her meaning.

"You're lying." Alistair looked pale and unhappy now, and his erection had all but wilted. _More's the pity…_ "Cailan wouldn't have done that. All he was interested in was fighting the darkspawn. And if Loghain hadn't deserted him-"

"If Loghain hadn't run, he'd be dead, too, and your Orlesian Warden friends would have taken over Ferelden," Megan interrupted him. "Look, I don't doubt you meant well. That was some impressive fighting in the Tower of Ishal, by the way. But Cailan was an idiot. No grasp of strategy, no thought beyond tomorrow." She shrugged. "Really, if he'd ever used that pretty head of his instead of thinking with his-"

"I don't believe you." Alistair shook his head as vehemently as his bonds allowed him to. "Cailan was married to Anora, and he respected her."

This time, she laughed out loud. "Cailan? Respected her? That cold bitch Anora? Oh my poor sweet darling. If you knew the truth… Actually, I might as well tell you. The whole story, right from the beginning." Sliding off the table, she wandered over to the armchair Carver had brought in for her earlier and curled up in it. "I've never told anyone, and it's a good story. Besides…" She let her eyes rake all over him. "It might get you in the mood for play again. As I said, I miss Cailan sometimes, and you're such a pretty boy."

He made a small, stifled noise, but he didn't contradict her. _Curious, are you?_ With a smile, Megan lay back in the chair, conjuring up her memories. "It all started on my seventeenth birthday, when my parents gave a ball for me…"


	3. Chapter 3

The ball had been _the_ social event of the season. The Couslands had invited everyone who counted, every potential suitor for their darling daughter's hand, every bann and arl and teyrn, even the king himself. And they all had come, lighting up the great ballroom at Highever with their jewel-encrusted parade uniforms and ballgowns, laughing and drinking and cheering. Megan had soaked it all up, the admiring looks from the men and the jealous glances from the other girls, revelling in all the attention.

Of course, from a practical point of view, the ball was a pointless exercise as far as she was concerned. She was going to marry Nathaniel, as soon as possible. They had it all worked out, and she was sure her father wouldn't deny his old friend Rendon's son. Not with Amaranthine growing richer and stronger every day, not with the promise of controlling yet another arldom dangling in front of him. And the whole arrangement suited Megan just fine. She liked Nathaniel, and he adored her. He was going to be the ideal partner for all her schemes and plans.

There was a disagreeable moment, when her father had called her over to present her to Bann Teagan of Rainesfere, showing her off like a prize horse. Megan had gritted her teeth as the Bann had kissed her hand, his lips lingering a tad longer than was proper. _No use getting your hopes up._ _I'm not going to marry you, you daft old bugger!_ Her father had seemed disappointed at her lack of enthusiasm, and she knew she'd hear more of that later, but Megan hadn’t cared. As the evening had drawn to a close, the air had become more stifling, and she kept looking for a chance to get away. It took a while, but finally, an opportunity presented itself, when everyone was distracted by her father's speech. Without hesitation, she had sneaked out of the ballroom.

And now she was where she really wanted to be, out in the gardens with Nathaniel, on the little bench at the centre of the maze, his lips hot on her throat and his hands kneading her breasts with just enough force to make her whimper.

"Maker, Megan." Nathaniel was breathing hard. "You're amazing. Are you sure we can't-"

"You know we can't. Not yet." She caught his lips in another kiss, but just then, a pointed cough made them jump apart.

"Well, well." The voice accompanying it was deep and carrying, and Megan recognized it straight away. "Not what I would have expected of Bryce Cousland's demure little daughter."

"Your Majesty!" Megan dropped into a deep curtsy. "You have my sincere apologies." Nathaniel had jumped back into the shadows. "Run," she mouthed at him, and with a quick nod, he was gone.

King Cailan walked over to her at a leisurely pace, offering her his hand to get up. "Well, Lady Megan? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Megan's mind was racing. This was a tricky situation, but if she played her cards right... Cailan had quite the reputation as a womaniser, and maybe she could take advantage of that fact. She watched him carefully from under her lashes, and yes, he kept sneaking glances at her breasts, half bared from Nathaniel's enthusiastic attentions. Instead of covering up, Megan took a step closer, and as she had expected, Cailan's breath hitched in his throat.

"Why don't you sit down while I explain, sire?" Megan tilted her head toward the bench.

Cailan raised an eyebrow, but he did as she had suggested. "Right. Explain."

Megan took a deep breath. "That was Nathaniel Howe, your Majesty. My fi- the man I hope to marry soon. And I know I shouldn't have let him go so far, but…" Sinking to her knees again, she looked up at him. "It felt so good."

Cailan inhaled sharply. Clearly, her defense was not what he had expected. "But what about your good name? Your family? You are a teyrn's daughter. What do you think your father would say if he'd seen you just now?"

Megan bit her lip. Placing both her hands on his thighs, she moved a little closer. His muscles tightened in her grip, and she could feel his warmth through the thin fabric. "Please, sire, don't tell my father about this. I'll do anything you ask of me."

"Anything. Right." Cailan cleared his throat nervously. "You don't mean that, do you?"

Megan wet her lips with her tongue. "Anything. I swear. Whatever you want."

Cailan drew another deep, shaky breath. "And what if I asked you to sleep with me?"

The sudden rush of power and arousal nearly took her breath away. "You are my king. Whatever you command, I'll do. But…" She lowered her gaze to his crotch, noting with approval the size of the bulge in his pants.

"But what?" Gripping her chin, Cailan made her look up again. His eyes had grown very dark.

"My father would kill me if he found out I was not a virgin any more. You know that, sire." She met his gaze, fully trusting in her ability to hide her true feelings.

"A virgin… But what about you and your lover?" Cailan seemed confused.

"We haven't gone that far." Megan bit her lip again. "Just kissing and touching and-"

"And?" Cailan was leaning forward now, his gaze fixed on her lips.

"Licking." Megan barely whispered the word, but the effect it had on Cailan was extraordinary. "He likes it when I put my mouth on him."

"Does he now?" Cailan sounded rough. One of his hands grabbed her head, wrapping strands of her hair around his fingers, while he quickly untied the laces of his pants with the other. And then he was bare before her, hot and hard and big, Maker so big. "Show me. Show me what he likes."

Another wave of arousal swept through her body, leaving her wet and shivering. Without hesitation, Megan wrapped her lips around Cailan's cock and sucked.

An incoherent litany of curses dropped from Cailan's lips, and his fingers tightened in her hair. "Maker, Megan, don't stop. In Andraste's name, don't stop."

Megan had no intention of doing so, but she pulled back a little, so she could look up at him. Without letting go of his cock, she fluttered her eyes at him and at the same time she sucked again, harder this time. Cailan moaned helplessly, and his moans grew louder when she ran her tongue all over him, tracing every ridge and fold.

Megan knew she was good at this. She'd gotten a lot of practice with Nathaniel lately, as well as with Carver, the pretty young guardsman she'd seduced a while ago. She knew how to drive a man wild, and besides, Cailan had to be massively turned on by the situation alone. A noble young lady, barely seventeen, on her knees before him in her father's garden… She sucked again, wrapping her hands tightly around his shaft, because there was simply no way to take all of him. Cailan whined like a puppy, abandoning himself completely to her efforts. And with every flutter of her tongue, every hollowing of her cheeks, she took him higher and higher, until finally he arched up under her and came with a shout, pouring himself down her throat.

Megan swallowed it all, except for a little bit she allowed to trickle down her chin. Cailan groaned again, dragging her up into his lap so he could lick her clean and kiss her deeply. And then his mouth found her breasts, locking around a nipple, hungry and greedy, and Megan nearly lost it. It felt so good, so insanely good, and she was so very worked up already. It was a good thing she'd already taken care of him, because there was no way she would have been able to say no if he'd wanted her now. As it was, when he hitched up her skirts and buried one thick finger deep inside her, she clenched hard around him, unable to stop herself. Cailan laughed breathlessly and pulled the finger back, thrusting it hard inside her again. Megan saw stars. Within minutes, she was babbling, begging him not to stop, and when he swept his thumb across her pearl, she let go, clinging to his shoulders as her climax tore through her. He held her tight until she'd calmed down a little, then he kissed her again, soft and slow this time.

"As soon as you're married." His voice was hoarse with want. "As soon as you're married, I want you and your husband at court and you in my bed. You hear me? And I will make sure you won't regret it. You shall have anything you ask of me." Another kiss, this one more insistent. "Promise me."

"I promise, my lord." Megan was still trembling, and in this moment, the prospect of being a royal mistress seemed very alluring. "Your wish is my command."

* * *

"So, you see…" Megan finished, getting to her feet and stepping up to the table again. "Cailan wasn't all that honourable. Not when it came to pretty girls. He took what he wanted, no matter if it was his to take."

Alistair had listened with rapt attention, and he was at least half hard again, but the look in his eyes was still defiant. _Good_. Megan had kind of hoped it wouldn't be too easy.

"Stories," he growled at her. "You have no proof for anything you say."

"No, I don't," Megan agreed. "But I don't need any. You're at my mercy anyway…" She smiled when he strained against his bonds. "… so why would I lie to you? Anyway, I wasn't finished." She returned to her chair and was silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

Convincing her father that she had to marry Nathaniel, had to marry him now instead of waiting for a better catch to come along, wasn't easy. In the end, Megan ended up enlisting her prospective father-in-law's help. Rendon Howe had always had a soft spot for her, and when she managed to corner him in the library at the end of a visit, he was all fatherly smiles.

"What is it, Megan?" He chuckled indulgently. "Why the secrecy?"

"It's just…" She gave him her most innocent look. "I wanted to ask your advice. About Nathaniel."

Rendon's expression hardened. "Why? What did he do?"

"Nothing!" Meg smiled reassuringly. "At least… nothing yet, but…" She hesitated. "You won't tell my father, will you?"

"Well, that would depend on what you're about to tell me, young lady." Rendon sounded so pompous she had a hard time remaining serious.

"Nothing bad or wrong!" Megan bit her lip, her eyes wide and innocent. "But we… we're in love, you see, Nathaniel and I. And we want to get married."

"But that's excellent news, my dear." Rendon beamed at her. "I'm sure no one would object to this match."

"Well, Father does. At least for now." Megan threw him a pleading look. "He thinks I'm too young. He wants us to wait. But I'm not sure we can wait much longer. Nathaniel-" She broke off, lowering her gaze. "He's been very insistent lately, and I… It's not easy to resist him, you know."

"I see." Rendon sounded thoughtful. "Well, I guess I can't blame the boy. If I was a little younger, I'd be tempted to woo you myself."

Megan actually threw up in her mouth a little at the thought, but somehow, she managed to keep her feelings from showing.

"It's just…" She swallowed. "I don't want us to do anything we'll regret later. All I want is to get married. Now. Is that so bad?"

"I'm going to talk to your father tomorrow." Rendon's expression was determined. "Just leave it all to me, my pet."

She never knew what exactly Rendon had told her father, but a week later, Megan and Nathaniel were officially engaged, and a date for the wedding was set. Three months later, Revered Mother Helena pronounced them man and wife in a touching ceremony at the Chantry in Amaranthine.

Things were a whirlwind after the wedding: her honeymoon with Nathaniel, full of sex and plotting and fun; her parents' sudden and inexplicable demise; Fergus' disappearance. Almost six months went by before they could finally make their debut at court, and by that time Megan wasn't sure if Cailan would still remember the promise he'd exacted from her. There were so many other pretty ladies after all, all vying for his attention, and besides, her mourning garb was hardly the most seductive attire.

She needn't have worried. As soon as he set eyes on her, Cailan's expression turned predatory. She could feel his gaze on her all through the evening, hot and piercing. Oh yes, he still wanted her. No doubt about it.

It was late, when they finally retired to their rooms, a sumptuous suite in the coveted west wing of the palace, close to the king's own apartments. Nothing but the best for the heiress of Highever and her husband.

"What's the matter?" Nathaniel embraced her from behind as she took off her jewelry, breathing a kiss on her neck. "You look worried."

"I'm just preoccupied. Lost in thoughts." Megan smiled at him. He wouldn't like what she had to tell him, but there was nothing to be done. Before she could find the right words, however, there was a sharp knock on the door.

"Lady Howe?" A smooth, professional voice. "His Majesty has requested your presence. You are to come with me at once."

"Just a moment," Megan cried out, then she carefully lowered her voice. "I have to go, Nathaniel."

He looked bewildered. "Why? What does Cailan want?" Fortunately, he had enough presence of mind to keep his voice down as well.

"I think I can guess. And I'm sure so can you." Quickly, Megan ran a brush through her hair and inspected her reflection in the mirror with a critical frown. There was no time to change, and her neckline was far too modest, but with a little pulling and rearranging, she managed to expose the top of her breasts. "There. That's better."

Nathaniel was glaring at her. "I don't think I like this idea."

"Oh, come on, Nathaniel." One quick step took her into his arms for a deep, passionate kiss. "You know that this isn't something I can refuse. If Cailan wants me, there's no point in acting coy. And besides, if we play this right…" She ran her hand down his body in a hurried caress. "It could do wonders for your position at court. Just leave it to me. You know I can handle it."

Nathaniel's hands around her waist tightened. "I hate the thought of him touching you," he growled. "You belong with me."

"It won't mean a thing." Megan breathed another quick kiss on his lips. "You know that. You're my husband. And I promise I'll make it up to you afterwards. But now I really need to go."

Reluctantly, Nathaniel let go of her. He still wasn't happy, that much was obvious, but he knew better than to make a scene. Megan breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, she had chosen well. Her husband understood that sometimes she had to do things he didn't like, and he respected her judgment. It was good to have him at her side.

"I'm ready." With a last quick smile at him, she opened the door and inclined her head regally at the messenger. "Take me to the king."


	5. Chapter 5

The servant was a model of discretion. He took her to Cailan's quarters via a complicated route involving various tapestry doors and back corridors. They didn't meet a single soul on their way. Finally, he left her at a small, nondescript door, bowing curtly. "The king is awaiting you, my lady." He was gone before she could ask any questions.

Slowly, Megan pressed down the handle and stepped out into the light. _The king's private quarters_. With no small amount of curiosity, she looked around. The room she found herself in was pleasant and cozy, not particularly showy or ostentatious, with comfortable oaken furniture and thick carpets. There was a big bed, a table and some armchairs near the fireplace, and a desk in the corner.

The king was standing there, drinking wine from a large goblet. He looked tired and a bit worse for wear compared to the last time she'd seen him, but when he noticed her, his face lit up. "Megan. There you are."

"Your Majesty." Once again, she sank into a deep curtsy, bowing her head to expose the graceful curve of her neck.

"Call me Cailan, will you?" He seemed a bit nervous – surprisingly so, for surely, she wasn't the first woman he'd summoned in this manner. "I'm very sorry about your parents. Your father was a great man, if a bit stubborn."

Megan nodded. _Correct on both counts._ Things had definitely gotten a lot easier with Bryce out of the way. "Thank you, your- Cailan. I appreciate your concern."

"Right." He appeared to relax a little, now that the social niceties were out of the way. "So… You're a married woman now." He leaned back against the desk, letting his eyes wander all over her body. "How do you like married life so far?"

He was a teensy bit drunk, Megan realised, not enough to impair his judgment or his performance - at least she hoped so - but just enough to loosen his tongue a little.

"I like it very well, thank you." Holding his gaze, she smiled at him. "And I really enjoyed my wedding night."

A quick series of emotions chased each other all over his face: jealousy, arousal, annoyance. But most of all, desire. Sheer naked _want_. "Did you, now?" He put down the goblet with a resolute thunk. "All right. Quit playing, Megan. Take off your dress."

_So that's how you want to play it!_ Megan raised a surprised eyebrow, but she willingly reached for the first hook on her back. After all, she much preferred a direct approach herself. "Of course. Can you help me with these?"

Cailan was behind her in a flash, carefully unhooking the fastenings, his fingers hot on every inch of skin he bared. He made no move to take off his own clothes, though, and when the dress slid down to pool at her feet, he took a step back. "Take those off, too." He gestured at her smalls.

Megan obeyed. Her breastband came off, then her panties, and suddenly she was stark naked, right here in front of him, completely bare under the scrutiny of his gaze.

And Cailan was devouring her with his eyes, the heat in them almost tangible as he walked around her in a slow circle. "You're so lovely."

Picking up all her courage, she raised her gaze to meet his. "My king. Let me see you, too. Please."

He seemed taken aback for a moment, but then he smiled, and his clothes came off quickly. He still didn't touch her, though, and Megan took advantage of the brief pause to look her fill.

Cailan was a magnificent specimen, there could be no doubt about it. His body was in perfect shape, his hair thick and blond, his eyes bright blue and clear, despite the drink. And when she lowered her gaze further, Megan swallowed involuntarily. _Holy Maker!_

Cailan smiled. "Well?"

Megan took a step closer and raised her hand to touch him, but he caught it, breathing a kiss on it. And suddenly he was embracing her, pulling her close to his hot body, letting her feel all of him, before he lifted her up in his arms. Two steps took them over to the bed where he dropped her unceremoniously on the sheets. Before she knew what was happening, he was already on top of her, kissing her with furious greed. Clearly, this time he intended to have what he wanted, and Megan didn't fool herself into thinking that she could deny him again. One didn't argue with kings.

At least he knew what he was doing. His lips on her breasts were warm and firm, and his beard was tickling her a little. Megan didn't have to fake her enjoyment. Cailan seemed in no hurry as he licked and suckled her nipples, teasing them until they were stiff and aching. By the time he spread her legs and slipped a finger inside her, she was already soaking wet.

But when she mewled impatiently, he shook his head. "Shhh, sweetheart. Let me-" And before she knew what was happening, his mouth was on her core, his tongue demanding and insistent, and there was simply nothing she could do to resist. He kept going until she was close, so very close, and then he lay back, pulling her on top of him. "Now." His breath was coming in quick, hard gasps.

Megan was sincerely glad he was leaving the tempo up to her, because when she tried to take him in, she had to pause immediately, breathing slowly and evenly. She was wet and open, more than ready for him, but that impressive royal size of his would definitely take some getting used to. Very slowly she sank down on him, inch by careful inch, and when he was finally fully settled inside her, she exhaled shakily. "Maker. I feel…" _Full_ , she was going to say, because she was stretched to the limit, and everything was so very tight. But the word seemed inadequate. It was amazing and hot, and a tiny bit uncomfortable, and part of her wondered if she would be able to bear it if he'd start to move.

Cailan was patient, waiting until she nodded, but then he rolled over with her in one smooth move. Megan gasped at the sight of him looming over her, so tall, so massive. Slowly, very slowly, he pulled back, leaving her feeling empty and bereft. Yet, only moments later, he was pushing inside her again, still careful, still slow, but yes, her body was already adapting, and Maker, he felt good! The next time he pulled back, she whined at the loss. Cailan responded with a husky groan, thrusting harder, and now they found a rhythm, and he picked up speed and she was moving with him.

It didn't take long, as worked up as they both were, but before he came, he reached down to touch her, and somehow his frantic caresses did the trick, sending her over together with him. He came inside her, pouring himself into her body in great, heaving spurts. Briefly, Megan wondered whether she should forgo her usual precautions and try for a royal bastard, but then she relented. Nathaniel didn't deserve this, and it would make things far too complicated. Besides, if the rumours were true, it was highly doubtful Cailan would be able to get her pregnant anyway.

"Megan." Rolling on his back, he stretched out next to her, still panting, still trembling. "Come here."

She came into his arms willingly, even though she felt no urge to cuddle. But only a complete idiot would have scoffed at the chance of a little post-coital conversation with the king. To be here with him, in this moment, when all his barriers were down, when he was open to anything she might whisper in his ear… No, Megan was far too conscious of her own power to pass that chance over.

"My king." Huddling up in his arms she ran her small hands admiringly over his wide chest. "I don't know what to say. I never knew-" Megan swallowed hard. "I never knew it could feel so good."

It was a lie, of course. Sure, Cailan was skilled enough, and the whole size thing was an interesting novelty. But Nathaniel had given her far better orgasms than this, and so had Carver, even though she hadn't actually slept with him yet. Still, she was willing to bet that, like all men, Cailan enjoyed being told that he was special, that he could do what no one else could. And predictably, he chuckled at her words, clearly flattered. _Good._ She needed to make him come back for more, now that he'd gotten what he wanted. Of course, he was bound to lose interest sooner or later anyway, but Megan was determined to milk the whole thing for what it was worth for as long as it lasted.

"Rest a little now." Cailan's voice was warm and sleepy. "Raymond will take you back to your quarters soon. But don't worry." He breathed a kiss on her head. "Tomorrow is another day. And I'm not done with you yet."


	6. Chapter 6

Yawning, Megan uncurled from the chair and took another good look at her prisoner. Alistair obviously wasn't unaffected by her lurid descriptions. He was straining against his breeches so hard that it took only the merest ghost of a touch to make him cry out. Bucking into her hand, he sobbed with anger at his inability to control his reaction.

"Relax." Megan shook her head. "Hey, it's fine. You know, all this talk of sex has me quite horny as well. And as I said, I do miss Cailan's cock."

Alistair moaned brokenly when she stroked him again, but he was still struggling for control. It was almost admirable, really. "You… You said you went to see Cailan. At Ostagar."

"He sent for me, actually." Megan smiled nostalgically. "He was scared by that time and he needed someone to make him feel strong and powerful and invincible. Sex will do that for a man, you know."

"He was right to be scared." Alistair bit his lip hard. "Please. You need to understand. There's a Blight coming. You need to let me go. Without me, without a Warden-"

"Ah, no." Megan shook her head. "None of that, now. You don't expect me to believe those silly Warden stories, do you? In death sacrifice, and all that…" Alistair whined with frustration, and she took a closer look at him. "But you do! You actually believe in them yourself. Poor lamb. You really think you have to sacrifice yourself for the greater good." She sighed. "Honestly, you're just like your brother. I _warned_ Cailan that fighting at the Wardens' side would be the most dangerous course of action. The one most likely to impress everyone, the one no one would expect from a mere mortal. And of course, there was no way he could resist that idea. He wanted so badly to be remembered as a hero, like Hafter or Dane."

_Like his father._ Megan shook her head at the memory. It had been so easy to manipulate Cailan, to send him to his death. It almost made her feel bad, thinking back on it now, but it had been the sensible thing to do. The king's interest in her had already begun to wane by then, and besides, Loghain had turned out to be extremely grateful for her help.

Now, Loghain… He was a _true_ leader, a skilled politician, with actual brains, and Megan was more than happy to follow his lead for now. Not forever, sure, but for now, he would do.

Alistair was staring at her. _"You_ suggested that Cailan should fight in the thick of things? _You_ were the one who made him think it was a good idea?"

_Damn._ Megan cursed under her breath. She really shouldn't have told Alistair quite so much. But she'd let herself get carried away, and now she would probably have no choice but to have him killed. But then, if she was honest, that had been the likely outcome of their little chat anyway. Still, none of this was a reason not to have some fun now…

"Oh, come on, Alistair." Slowly, she began to untie the sash of her dress, enjoying the way his eyes were glued to her breasts. "When all is said and done, Cailan died a happy man." Her nimble fingers made short work of the lacings of his breeches, and when his cock sprang free, hard and weeping with desire, she smiled appreciatively. "And so will you. Trust me."

**Author's Note:**

> Huggles and thanks to my awesome beta suilven.


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